Fish in the Sea
by Ex. Locally Grown Weeb
Summary: "Dear me, my sweet Ecco, no longer my echo, there'll never be another one like you." After Ecco, and before Harley Quinn, comes a whole roster of replacements, each one just as expendable as the ones before. Here, we have the first fish from a whole sea of them. Sometimes, just sometimes, he regrets killing her.


**This was just something I had the idea for, inspired a bit from the comics where in one issue Joker shows Harley Quinn a room full of Harley Quinn costumes and says something along the lines of "you weren't the first, you won't be last, yadda yadda". So anyways, I wrote this piece of "I-don't-even-know" in my grieving stage for Ecco. To anyone who might be following The Zsasz Hands (aka three people or sum' lol), I am still working on the next chapter. I've barely had any time recently, and when I did have time I only had inspiration for this. My deepest, sincerest apologies, but it be like that.**

**Disclaimer; I do not own Gotham in any way, shape, or form, and it belongs to Fox and DC. I also don't have a Beta, so any and all mistakes are completely and totally mine. **

**TW; Abusive Relationship (Nothing you haven't seen him do to Ecco already), Usual Gotham Gore**

"Oh dear, my sweet Ecco, no longer my echo," he remarked, barely even glancing to her wound, wet blood slapping against the polished and slick floor. She was so fragile, so horribly vulnerable. So easily breakable in this moment, and this moment was all that mattered.

"There'll never be another one like you," he sounded regretful, and fond, but there were no regrets or second thoughts as he brought up his gun and shot a bullet into her heart. Her expression of absolute adoration and love only faltered for brief moment when she squeaked in surprise, but quickly returned, that loony smile an open floodgate for her thick crimson blood. In the end, she was literally a bleeding heart; for him.

But in the end, she was an old joke, a joke that always ended the same. And even if she was good joke, one of his favorites, it was best to not beat a dead horse. It was best to keep the joke a fond, funny memory, rather than one you instantly felt revulsion towards no matter the context. Yes, Ecco's time had come. It was time for a new brand of comedy.

Besides, there were always more fish in the sea.

Shirley Temprell was his next, and immediately after his first encounter with the Batman. An old follower, but a fresh face, seeing as she had only recently clawed her way up to the top ranks.

"Boss?" she asked, her tone questioning but also wary. She was not an idiot, he liked that about her, because she was scared of him, deep down. Her doe-like baby blue eyes were fixated on his hand, still pierced through by the bat-shaped projectile. Shirley was a pretty little thing, with a dainty nose, supple pink lips, doe eyes, and shoulder-length blonde hair and blunted bangs she had dyed black. She was entirely unassuming, and held a quality that Ecco hadn't. She would do just perfect.

He laughed, and she rose a black dyed brow in concern. He advanced and held out his yellow-gloved hand, gesturing to the weapon still stuck. She regarded it with both concern and curiosity.

"Look, it's a Batarang!" he laughed again, and she chuckled a little anxiously, but took his hand gingerly. From the side of the room entered another one of his lackeys, an ugly little dwarf-man who went by Gagsworth. Usually, Gagsworth would've dealt with this kind of thing. He had dealt with various other injuries his boss acquired at Arkham, and would be expecting to deal with this one.

"Very funny Boss," he laughed appreciatively, waddling over, "need me to patch it up?" Shirley began to step away, but with lightning grasp he seized her wrist, maintaining intense and unwavering eye contact. She met his gaze boldly, though her brows were furrowed his confusion.

"No, no, Shirley here can do it," he purred, and he didn't miss the look of confusion passing in Shirley's eyes, nor the disappointment in Gagsworth's.

"Okay then boss, smell ya later!" Gagsworth quickly recovered, and waddled away, casting a suspicious glance up and over his shoulder at Shirley, who glared right back.

He smirked and chuckled darkly in satisfaction at what was taking place right before him. He could see it happening already; Shirley was grasping onto this responsibility for dear life, this sense of elevated importance. Of course she would, after all, he was him, and she had clawed her up so far with blood, sweat, and tears. This, this was just the ticket she had been looking for.

* * *

"Mr. Joker?" Shirley was standing right in the doorway to his room, wringing her hands anxiously. Since he had first chosen her all those months ago, she had changed her style drastically, obviously trying to be as close to Ecco as possible. Her bangs were still dyed black, but the rest of her blond hair was now dyed a dark red and put up in those twin buns on the side of her head, and her eyebrows were each dyed black and red, respectively.

Her makeup was black and red, with one eye having red eyeshadow, the other black, and her lips being painted red and black like Ecco had had hers white and red. She wore red leather shorts, a black leather croptop with red tassels, and black fishnets with tall red lace-up boots. Still, she was no Ecco. She was meaner, and crueler than Ecco in a way that wasn't seeping in innocence and humour. She was simply violent, and didn't try to disguise or embellish it anyway. Either way, she melted when she around him.

"Yes?" he asked, tearing his gaze away from the newspaper he had in front of him, sporting the headline of "The Batman saves the Day Again", and displaying a grainy photo of said man.

"If you don't mind me asking, what- what ever happened to Ecco?" she asked. Ah, yes, it had taken her longer than he had expected for this question. He smiled, beckoning her closer to sit on his lap. She came over to him readily, and as though it were second nature, sat down gracefully on his lap, biting her lip to and failing to hide the giddy smile on her painted lips, and eyes glowing with anticipation and staying locked with his. Lazily, he trailed his hand along her side and up to her neck, the shudders of excitement from her only slightly annoying, but still satisfying to him.

"I shot her dead," he purred, and in a flash he encircled her neck with his hand, a short, choppy squeal coming from her as he continued to choke her, but she didn't make a move to stop him, her hands balled into tight fists on her lap. That power, the fact that she was so enamored with him that she didn't even more to defend herself. It was euphoric, addicting.

"I'm sure you know what that means then, don't you?" He purred, pulling her forward to do so in her ear. He released her, and she recoiled back sharply, hands coming up to her neck and massage it, regarding him with evident fear, but she stayed there on his lap, incredibly tense.

"Of course," she murmured, and she deflated, looking downcast. He smiled in a comforting manner, and tipped her chin up to meet his gaze.

"Don't you worry yourself over that now, though, my sweet Ecco. You are doing just perfect," he reassured, and she smiled hesitantly, but obviously relieved. For a moment, in his addled brain, there she was, his Ecco, the one he had left on the floor of the old Siren's Club. He leaned forward and kissed her softly and tenderly, to which she eagerly responded, just as sweetly and even more lovingly.

"Go on, my Shirley Temple, get yourself some rest. Tomorrow is a big day..," he chuckled against her lips, and she smiled widely and giddily, hopping off of his lap and straightening so she was like a soldier.

"On it, sir!" she saluted stiffly, though still grinning, and then she skipped out of the room, whistling as she went.

Yes, his Shirley Temple. Not quite his Ecco, she never could be, but she was suitable. She would work until he found someone better to be Ecco, or simply until she became an inconvenience. In hindsight, what had he expected? He had known that no one else could be like his Ecco, not really, and yet here he was, twisting and molding Shirley into his closest rendition of her. Still, Shirley was a good Ecco, a fine Ecco. It was all perfectly fine. (Despite the shadow of regret in his shriveled, burnt heart that regretted ever shooting Ecco in the first place.)

* * *

"Mr. Joker?" Shirley whimpered from where she was standing, clutching her stomach where a batarang had embedded itself there. It had been meant for him, and yet she she had jumped in front of him, pushing him aside to intercept the weapon. He knew it might have hit his hip, but with her shorter stature, it caught her abdomen. Blood slowly trickled out of her exposed stomach and through her fingers. Quiet suddenly, he was back at the Siren's Club, and here was Ecco, clutching her bleeding stomach.

"Oh dear," he murmured, pushing himself up where he had fallen and focusing in on the wound, on the weapon that had so deeply embedded itself in her. Her baby blue eyes were blown open wide in shock, and a solitary tear ran down her pale cheek, followed by black from her mascara and eyeliner. She stumbled back a few steps, and slowly raised her gaze to meet his partially confused one.

In his peripheral vision he could see Batman racing along the roof of the bank where the pair had just exited. Forgotten bags of money were left on the dark, moonlit road as he steadied her. Could she survive from that? Would it be too much of a nuisance to bring her along and escape with her? And most importantly, would he regret killing _her_ again?

"I- I think he got me pretty bad," she gasped, and now more tears were running down her cheeks as she screwed her eyes shut and her face twisted into a pained grimace. He himself grimaced, a single heart-string of sympathy and regret being played. It was a shame, he had grown quite fond of her. As time passed, he got more fond of his Ecco.

"You did good, Shirley," he assured, laying her down on the pavement and drawing his gun, decision made. Her eyes blew open wide at the familiar click, and instantly an expression of pure terror was displayed as she shook her head "no" and she wound the fabric of his shirt collar in one, blood soaked hand.

"No- no no please, I'm sorry, I'll do better next time- I'll-" she stuttered, wet sobs interrupting her pleads, and he frowned, hushing her quiet. He pulled her hand away from his collar and without hesitation, shot her dead, a bullet straight in her heart. Her head lolled to the side, her expression one of grotesque terror and shame, so incredibly different from Ecco that he actually had to recoil away.

He tore his attention away from Shirley Temple and to the one that actually mattered, The Batman, who was swiftly swinging down from the bank rooftop and down towards them. He barely glanced at Shirley, attention stolen. He could always get another Ecco, and he would, but there was only one Batman, and here he was in front of him.

And, as he had once said, there were always more fish in the sea.

**A/N: No, it is not a typo when I type Shirley Temprell and then you see Shirley Temple later on. I figured that J kinda twists these girls into different people, and with that comes a sort of change of identity, y'know? i.e Harleen Quinzel to Harley Quinn. I dunno, I thought it was a kinda good idea.**

**Also, Gagsworth is an actually character in the comics. I believe he shows up in Gotham City Sirens and goes sicko mode trying to kill Harley Quinn over jealousy over Joker. SO that's fun. **

**~Adios!**


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